


I Don't Know What to Title This, Fiddlestan #3

by JessieMWilhelm



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: AU, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mind the warnings, Sexual Assault, Sorry Not Sorry, THIS TURNED SO DARK SO FAST, fiddlestan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 20:25:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4719281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JessieMWilhelm/pseuds/JessieMWilhelm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Anonymous said to jessiemw14:<br/>If fiddlestan requests are still open, could you write how their relationship began, or about their first kiss?"</p>
<p>(PLEASE MIND THE TAGS, THE SUMMARY TRICKS YOU, AND IT'S NOT THAT HAPPY OF A STORY.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Know What to Title This, Fiddlestan #3

**Author's Note:**

> Again, please mind the tags, this story does contain sexual assault, this is the last warning.  
> (I was really hesitant to actually post this on here, but here we go!)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!
> 
> (Also, I edited this one a little bit more compared to the on tumblr, so fair warning that there's some tweaks here and there!)

Fiddleford McGucket never really considered himself a rather attractive man.

So, needless to say, it was a shock rather to discover that Stanley Pines of all people was attracted to him – almost as much of a shock as how Fiddleford discovered this fact.

“Aw, c’mon nerd! Why can’t I go inside the lab?” Stan had whined for what seemed like the fifth time that hour since Stanley had left, Fiddleford was quickly losing patience with the man.

“Stanley, it’s not safe in there right now with that plant, we don’t know it’s full effects yet, for all we know, direct contact could _kill_ you!” Fiddleford pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling more irritable than normal, Stan was really starting to irk the engineer.

“Fids!” Stanley whined once more, causing Fiddleford to throw a glare at the larger male.

“No Stanley! This is my final word on the subject!” Fiddleford huffed, sending one last warning glare Stanley’s way before returning back to his work.

When Fiddleford didn’t hear a response he assumed that Stanley had finally gotten the message – and boy, how wrong was he? It took a second for the loud, yet distant ding of the elevator that lead to the lab to register and when it did the pure feeling of panic was less than fun for the scientist. Fiddleford didn’t think, he rushed to the lab as fast as he could, screaming Stanley’s name. The cold feeling of fear that was settling in the pit of his gut felt like it was infecting the rest of Fiddleford’s body. Fiddleford knew what he was doing was a bit stupid, very impulsive to be brutally honest; but what Stan had just done was possibly the dumbest thing on this planet. Rushing, Fiddleford dashed forward into the lab, panic still controlling nearly his every movement; Fiddleford found his boss’s twin brother in a heap on the floor next to the plant. Fiddleford rushed to Stan’s side, briefly glancing to make sure that the plant was still there, even though it wasn’t his main worry at the given time.

Fiddleford lifted (more like dragged, Stan was rather large and heavy after all) Stanley’s body over to the cot that Stanley would usually spend those long nights in the lab on. Fiddleford breathed out a sigh of relief when he found that Stan still had a pulse, and that he was still breathing normally – he was merely passed out, unconscious.

Fiddleford watched with a relieved and thankful sigh as Stan opened his brown eyes, blinking rapidly.

“Stanley!” Fiddleford breathed, “Are you alright?”

Stan, looking to be in some sort of a daze nodded, eyes blank, giving Fiddleford this hazy gaze, but Fiddleford didn’t notice that, when it was confirmed that Stan was fine, he let all hell loose, “ _What the hell were you thinking?! You_ – YOU – ABSOLUTE _MORON!_ ”

Fiddleford’s scream of rage echoed throughout the whole lab and at end of his small moment of anger the scientist heaved out heavy breaths, shaking with barely contained rage, “ _Well?_ ”

No response. Just that hazy gaze.

“Sta – Stanley?” Fiddleford breathed, blinking, voice small and filled with concern – concerned for that almost haunting blank gaze his friend was giving him.

Stan – _ah!_ ” The scientist yelped, not expecting to be dragged down onto the cot by Stanley who was still frightening Fiddleford with that blank gaze.

“St – Stan?” Fiddleford’s voice came out just as small as earlier, but this time with a touch of fear, fear that came to settle the pit of his gut once more. _Something isn’t right, something isn’t right,_ Fiddleford thought frantically to himself and then there was no warning – Stanley leaned down and kissed Fiddleford square on the mouth.

Everything just _stopped._

It was like time had stopped especially for him at that moment, and that very breath that was previously stuck in Fiddleford’s throat had now been stolen away by Stan. Fiddleford was sure that in any other situation, he would’ve enjoyed this attention, perhaps been a little surprised, but enjoyed it nonetheless. It was Stanley Pines that Fiddleford was talking about, he was sure that half the single (and some of the non-single) ladies in this town was practically swooning for him – anyone would’ve enjoyed this, but this was different. Something was more than obviously _wrong_ and Fiddleford knew that it was the plant’s fault somehow, someway. The way Stan was acting too was quite frankly scaring Fiddleford out of his wits. When they parted, Fiddleford gasped for air while Stan dove right for the scientist’s neck, nibbling and surely leaving marks for tomorrow.

“Stanley! Stop!” Fiddleford exclaimed, trying his hardest to push Stanley away, who didn’t seem to even acknowledge his pleas, “Stanley, I’m serious! _Stop!_ ”

Stan didn’t react, merely continued on with his actions in silence and Fiddleford had a horrible realization; Stanley wasn’t going to stop.

And Fiddleford was powerless to stop him.

Fiddleford’s eyes burned with unshed tears, he was terrified. The plant was doing this, Fiddleford tried to remind himself, Stanley would _never_ be doing something like this without someone’s consent – but that didn’t stop how Fiddleford was feeling. What _was_ he feeling? Fear for the most part, but also (despite the fact knowing that the plant was behind this and not Stan) a bit of betrayal. Fiddleford, once again, kept reminding himself that this wasn’t Stan, and that once again he’d never do this to anyone without their consent; but that didn’t stop that certain feeling from bubbling up in his chest amongst all the fear and panic. Fiddleford thought back to the plant, trying desperately to remember if there was some way that him and Stanford found anyway to reverse the plant’s mental effects, but couldn’t think anything.

Fiddleford was without a doubt tapped.

The said scientist froze when he was brought back to reality, by Stanley pulling at the buckle of his belt. Fiddleford whimpered, it was this low distressed noise that came out while a lone tear slipped down Fiddleford’s cheek. Stanley was hovering about Fiddleford, panting and breathless with that same hazy, blank look that held no emotions or conscious thoughts to what he was actually doing.

“Stanley, please stop!” Fiddleford cried out, pleading with his eyes gazing into Stanley’s dark brown eyes, squirming violently under Stan in an attempt to get away, to escape. An attempt that was in vain seeing how Stanley merely pinned down Fiddleford even further into the mattress and began to tinker with the belt, attempting poorly to take it off. Fiddleford let out one last plea before squeezing his eyes shut, voice small, “Stanley… please, stop.”

What happened next, Fiddleford didn’t see coming.

Suddenly, with no warning once so ever, Stanley was slammed to the ground off of Fiddleford – who gasped in shock and relief when he no longer felt the weight of Stanley over him. As Fiddleford regained his awareness of his surroundings, Stanley was already unconscious again, on the floor and his boss was hovering over Fiddleford asking if his assistant was alright, “Fids?! Fids, c’mon talk to me! Are you okay? C’mon Fids, answer me!”

“I – I’m fine, I’m fine!” Fiddleford managed to gasp out, continuing with, “Wha – What just happened?”

“The plant has… very interesting side effects, and I didn’t realize until now how strong those side effects are…”

“Stanford,” Fiddleford began, his own frustration beginning to build up amongst the other swirling emotions in his chest, “Stanford, why did your brother respond this way to the plant?”

Ford shook his head, a worried frown settling on the man’s lips whilst sending a nervous glance to his brother’s unconscious body, “I’ll explain everything in a minute, let me just get Stan out of here first – will you be okay if I leave you alone for a minute?”

At his assistant’s nod Ford rushed to his brother and hauled the man out of the lab towards the elevator. Once Fiddleford was alone, the silence that followed was deafening and he had a horrific realization. Stanley was about to…

“Good God…,” A hand flew up to his mouth, eyes wide in horror.

At that point Fiddleford’s vision went blurry, then black and he knew at that point he had fainted.

* * *

When Fiddleford woke up, he was on Stanford’s couch with the said man hovering over Fiddleford with a worried expression.

“Doc? You awake?” Ford spoke softly, watching as his assistant sat up with a groan, a hand going to grasp his head.

“Yeah, I’m up – I’m awake,” His blue eyes cracking open and once more, everything that had happened crashed down on Fiddleford, causing the said male to freeze in his place.

“Stanley’s awake now,” Ford informed his assistant, as if reading Fiddleford’s thoughts. Fiddleford’s gaze was turned to his boss who now wore a very nervous expression, and Fiddleford could understand that nervousness given the type of situation they were in. Fiddleford moved his gaze to around the room in question, wondering where exactly Stan actually was, “He wants to talk to you first about what happened.”

“And what exactly _did_ happen Stanford? Why did Stan react this way towards the plant?” At the question, Ford winced, looking to be very hesitant to give any information, “ _Stanford_.”

“I promised Stan I wouldn’t say anything and let him explain,” Ford began, “But, he made it very clear to stress that if you don’t want to talk to him right now, you don’t have to; I’ll explain everything if you want.”

Silence fell upon the duo – Ford seemed to be very concerned for everyone in this situation. On one side this was his brother they were talking about while on another, this was Fiddleford, one of the best assistants and friends he had ever had. What was anyone really supposed to do in a situation like this? Fiddleford frowned, searching his thoughts. On one side, Stan _did_ force himself on Fiddleford, but the assistant knew it was under the influence of the plant and that Stan would never do this to anyone, _ever_. But there was still the conflicted emotions, emotions that were still raw after everything that had happened – Fiddleford wanted answers however, and by God he was going to get them. There a small part of Fiddleford that didn’t actually want to go see Stanley, but he was going to get those answers. A hand came sliding down Fiddleford’s face, while he stood up.

“Where is he Stanford?” Fiddleford’s voice came out soft, defeated almost, but there was a hint of determination in there that made Ford feel like that Fiddleford had made up his mind on what he wanted to do.

“On the porch,” Ford then quickly continued with, “but if you don’t want to go talk to him I can –!”

“ _Stanford_ ,” Fiddleford’s tone seemed to shut the other scientist up in a hurry, “If I didn’t want to see Stanley, I wouldn’t have asked, now if you’ll excuse me…”

Fiddleford then walked out onto the porch with such confidence that he was sure that nothing could stop him – and then he saw Stanley.

And the man looked _horrible_.

His eyes were dull (not that hazy blank look from earlier, thank God) and bloodshot, hair that was usually combed back was an unkempt mess, and Fiddleford saw, even in the dim light of the porch light that was the only thing illuminating the night (what time was it, how long had Fiddleford been out for?) dried tear stains trekking down Stan’s cheeks. Absent mindedly, Fiddleford pulled the collar of his button down shirt to cover the bruises that were surely there – Stan after all didn’t need to see that in the state he was in. Stanley hadn’t heard Fiddleford when he stepped out on the porch, giving the assistant time to gather his thoughts.

Was he _angry_ at Stanley? No, maybe a little scared right now, but never angry.

Was he confused, did he want answers? _Yes_. At the given moment, that was all that he wanted, Fiddleford wanted to know _why_.

Fiddleford counted to three in his head, and let go of the screen door that he didn’t even realize he had a death grip on. The door squeaked all the way till it slammed shut, and boy were those sounds deafening to Fiddleford – Stanley didn’t even flinch.

“Ford – I said leave me alone,” Stan gave a low grumble, standing up, and bringing a hand up to his face and rubbing it with it in despair, “Just – Just tell me when Fids wakes up, please Ford, I…”

“I’m up.”

The air became hard to take in after the assistant announced himself, and the reaction that Stan gave was not expected (there was nothing really to be expected anymore to Fiddleford). The brown haired and eyed man tensed, as slowly – ever so slowly – as if not to startle the other or to be startled himself, he turned his head to gaze into Fiddleford’s eyes. When their eyes met however, Fiddleford truly realized how _tore up_ Stanley looked. It was like the whole world was crashing down on him, judging by the look on the larger man’s face.

“Fids…,” Stan choked on his own words, and Fiddleford felt a flash of sympathy run over him, he just wanted to do something, anything – just to get that look of off Stanley’s face; but Fiddleford couldn’t do that, not at that moment, because Stan wasn’t the only one hurt in this situation.

And surprisingly, Fiddleford had managed to keep a cool head this far. With a deep and long sigh, Fiddleford carefully treaded over next to where Stan had been seated, and took a seat.

“Stanley, sit,” Fiddleford spoke softly, it was an order that the other male followed with no hesitation, and Fiddleford felt like there was no other word to be spoken but one, the one that had been burning in the back of the scientist's mind, “ _Why?_ ”

Stan let out a shaky sigh, running a hand through his hair and unable to make eye contact with the other, “Ford told me about how the plant affects people’s minds, and about it’s more magical effects – but, from what he told me, the plant basically give you a boost or drives you to… go after the thing that you want most.”

“Want most?” Fiddleford repeated, a confused frown coming to settle on his lips, watching with a worried expression as Stan hastily stood, still looking away from Fiddleford, and his hand rushing to rub the back of his neck, “Stanley…”

“Look I’m sorry, I’m sorry for a lot; I’m sorry for… for _attacking_ you the way I did –!”

“You weren’t in the right state of mind,” Fiddleford muttered, frown continuing to grow, still trying to understand and process what Stan had meant.

“But that doesn’t make what I did any better or worse!” Stan turned on his heel to look at Fiddleford, his eyes wide and filled with pain, new tears were coming to the corners of his eyes. Stan looked _destroyed_. And Fiddleford was at a complete lost for words, Stan seemed to freeze again his eyes trailing downwards towards Fiddleford’s neck and – _oh no_ , he saw the bruises.

Carefully with a shaky hand, he came forward and pushed the shirt collar to the side slightly to get a better look at the damage, and when he did Fiddleford could visually see the moment that he completely broke down, new tears trailed down the side of Stan’s face as he jerked his hand away as if he’d been burned.

“God Fids,” Stanley choked out, “I _hurt_ you. And I don’t think I can fix it – why – why are you still even talking to me. I messed up everything with my stupid feelings…”

And there it was, Fiddleford froze when he finally realized what Stan was talking about.

“I just screw up everything,” Stan continued on to say, words coming out choked while his tears was flowing down his cheeks, “I should just – just leave, you and Ford would be better off without me here to ruin everything, especially your lives.”

“That’s not true!” Fiddleford exclaimed, it was an impulsive move, but Fiddleford felt a surge of panic over come him as, without thinking he grasped onto both of Stanley’s hands, “I –! If – If anything you didn’t ruin my life, if anything you made it better Stanley!”

Wide eyed now, Stan stared at Fiddleford in slight awe, almost as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and at that point Fiddleford briefly realized that he didn’t, so Fiddleford continued on in a much softer tone, “You were there for me when my wife left and took my son, you’ve cheered me up when I was upset, you’ve saved me from those crazy monsters in the forest, and _so_ much more…”

“But…”

“True,” Fiddleford continued with a sigh, averting his gaze for a moment away from Stan’s, “I… what you did, despite having no control over your actions at the time doesn’t make it any better or worse. But, I – I care about you Stanley, too much to let you go, so please, _please_ don’t leave.”

Stan looked absolutely baffled, but hopeful as he carefully asked, “Can – can I hug you?”

At the nod he received, Stan grasped tightly onto Fiddleford and pulled him to Stan’s chest in a death grip and was completely returned by Fiddleford.

There would be things that they would both have to work on, Stan would tread carefully for the next month, barely touching Fiddleford without explicit consent and Fiddleford would sometimes would be reminded of that hazy blank look, but they could work through it.

And the two knew without a doubt that it’d be worth it in the long run.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Sorry I haven't really been updating on here recently, I've been on hiatus from writing, but now I'm back for (to be honest) I'm not sure how long.
> 
> Remember to leave a comment and to check out my writing tumblr, you may see things on there that you may not on here! (Link is on my profile page!)


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